


Indispensable

by gryffindos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, mild Self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindos/pseuds/gryffindos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He took a deep breath and pulled back the left sleeve of his white shirt. Hermione flinched, seeing the Dark Mark on his arm. . . Malfoy grimaced. 'Granger, You-Know-Who is back. And- he's after you.'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unpleasant Surprise

Hermione arrived home, exhausted after a long day at the Ministry. Ron was on the couch, waiting for her, as he usually was. She crossed the small room to where he sat and settled down next to him.

"Hey," she said, smiling and finally relaxing. Ron could make her relaxed even if there was a war going on outside. Which, up until three years ago, was exactly the case.

He didn't wrap his arm around her, or even answer her. She looked up into his face. It was strangely pained, with no traces of the usual banter he made when she got home. He wasn't looking at her, he was staring forward. His eyes had gotten a look that matched the expression on his face.

"Ron?"

He seemed to unfreeze. Ron looked at her, anger suddenly flashing in his eyes, gone within a second. "Welcome home," he said carefully, as if he were deciding already what he was going to say next. "You must've had a long day at work. Like you always do."

"It was okay," said Hermione cautiously. "But are you? Are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Of course I'm okay." His soft tone made her feel as if he were shouting at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just don't seem yourself..."

"I'm myself. I've just been waiting for you. And thinking."

"Thinking? A-about what?"

"A few things. One thing I lingered on, though, how I miss you."

"What do you mean you miss me?"

"You spend all your time at work. Hardly ever get home before eleven."

"Oh," Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Ron. There's just been so much to do."

"You're always tired," he continued. "You never spend time with me. You spend more time with Zabini." His words sounded rehearsed. Perhaps he'd planned them. But there was still pain and hurt in them.

"Oh, Ron, you know Blaise is my partner on this," she reminded him. "And I always try to get home as quickly as I can. But I have to come home to you, and Blaise has to get home to Pansy. I'm sorry."

"I know, Hermione. But I can't anymore." Ron breathed deeply. "What I mean is- I-I need freedom, Hermione. You're just too busy. You never have time for me. I think it's better if we split up. Just... I'll live out my life and you can do what you want with yours."

Hermione's ears rang with these unexpected words. "But-"

"Hermione, it's not you." He flinched at how cliche that sounded. "I've had... I've been attracted to other women, it's not your fault."

"Ron, I-"

"Hermione, how many boyfriends have you had before me?"

"One, but..."

"Exactly." His face had become determined. "Hermione, we can't stay together. I still... I have feelings for you, but they're fading."

"I- Ron, if that's really how you feel..."

"It is. I-I think it is."

"Then I can't do anything about it, can I?" she said sadly. She had never given up so easily. But what else could she do? It was impossible to persuade someone to love you. "I'll get my things, then."

Ron looked up, shocked. " _You_  can't move out."

"Why not? We just broke up, you bought the place. It's only right." She fought back what seemed like gallons of tears forming behind her eyes.

"No, Hermione. I bought it for you. It's yours." When Hermione tried to say something, he lifted his hand in the universal sign for quiet. "I already have my things packed. I'll be... leaving, then."

"Ron..." Hermione started to say. He walked toward her, stroking her face. He leaned down and kissed her softly.

As he pulled away and walked towards the door, Hermione felt as though a huge part of her was leaving. Her hands reached out instinctively, trying to hold on to what had just left. She sank to the floor, right where she was, and cried. Eventually, her eyes were swollen and red, her hair tangled from running her hands through them so much. She stood up, dragging herself to where her purse sat, abandoned on the couch. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Harry's number. She would have called Ginny, but she had been too confused by Muggle technology to bother buying one. Hermione walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, heaven for her parched throat.

"Hey, Mione!" Hermione wondered why Harry's voice was so bright, after all, her world had just fallen apart.

"Hi, Harry," she said, her voice husky from crying. She cleared her throat.

"Hermione?" he said. His overprotective brotherly side showed, worry for her overshadowing his pleasant attitude. "Are you alright?"

"Could you give the phone to Ginny, please?" Hermione croaked instead of answering him.

"Er.. okay. Ginny!" he called. "It's Hermione!"

"Oh, is she here?" came Ginny's voice.

"No, she's on the cell phone."

"The cell phone?" She sounded puzzled.

"The thing I'm holding in my hand, Gin." Hermione could envision Harry shaking his head at his wife, and it almost made her smile. Almost.

There was static, and Harry said something that sounded suspiciously like, "She doesn't sound too good."

"Hermione?" said Ginny once the static cleared up.

"Hi, Ginny," Hermione whispered. Her voice still sounded raspy.

Ginny obviously noticed this, because she immediately demanded, "What's wrong?"

"I-I can't tell you. Over the phone. Can you and Harry come to our- my apartment?"

"Of course," Ginny said. Hermione knew Ginny was wondering what could be so horrible she couldn't tell her, but she didn't say anything about it. "We'll be there in twenty minutes."

Hermione hung up and went to the bathroom. She looked exactly as if she had been crying for the last hour. She splashed water onto her face repeatedly, but no amount of it would make her eyes any less red, would erase any signs of tears. Cursing silently to herself in pain, she yanked a brush through her hair, where it got caught in all the snarls and tangles. Becoming frustrated, she stormed to the sitting room and grabbed a kitchen knife that had been left there the night before. She tore at her hair with it, each cut bringing on tears she thought were all gone. She stopped when her hair was about shoulder-length, ragged and torn. She dropped the knife at her feet. Her body shook and convulsed violently with sobs; her breathing was as uneven as her hair. She sank to the floor again, her back against the wall.

She stared at her hand. It lay next to her, motionless. She could barely make out the vein on her wrist, the slow bumping of flesh as blood passed through it. Her fingers twitched toward the knife. Any physical pain was welcome, to distract her from the emotional pain. She carefully weighed the knife in her palm. Could a simple swipe make her feel better? Could it make her pain lessen at least? There was only one way to find out. She pressed the cool blade against her skin. It sliced through easily. The gush of blood gave her a strange satisfaction. There was pain, of course there was pain. But not enough to overshadow her emotions. She went for it again, her body releasing the endorphins that made her feel much, much better.

A knock on the door. Someone calling Hermione's name. When there was no answer, the door burst open.

"HERMIONE!" shrieked Ginny. She ran to her side, pulling the knife from her hands. "What are you doing?!"

"No!" moaned Hermione. "It makes it go away. Stop!"

Harry picked up her arm, his hands shaking. "Hermione, you didn't..."

She yanked her arm away. "It's nothing!"

"Hermione, that's not nothing!" Harry said, panicked.

"What happened to you?" Ginny touched Hermione's hair, looked at her wrist. She quickly conjured a bandage and wrapped it around her injury.

Hermione's lip quivered, the tell-tale sign she was about to start talking. "Ron broke up with me," she whispered. That was all she said.

"And THIS was your reaction?!" said Ginny.

"I-I just..." began Hermione, but Ginny buried her in a hug.

"I know how much you love him, Hermione. But  _please_ ," she begged. "Don't hurt yourself because of him. Yes, he's my brother, but he doesn't deserve your pain."

Hermione sank against her. "Gin, you- you have no idea... I got home and-and he just said that his feelings for me were f-fading. That we couldn't be together anymore. You just don't understand what it's like."

Ginny's eyes flickered to Harry, who was kneeling on the ground next to them. She did understand. She knew how horrible it was, to break up when there seemed to be no problems, when everything was perfect between two people. But she didn't understand completely. Harry had still loved Ginny. Ron, on the other hand, didn't love Hermione. There was no chance of them ever getting back together.

"Can- can I just go to bed? Please?" Hermione looked up at them, feeling a vulnerability she hadn't felt since Ron had left that night on their hunt for Horcruxes.

"Of course," murmured Harry.

She curled up right where she was, but Harry picked her up gently. "You're not sleeping here."

She tried to protest, but as soon as he set her down on the bed, she was asleep. 


	2. Chapter Two

Nobody heard from Hermione for a week except for Harry and Ginny. They called in for her at the Ministry, telling them she couldn't attend work. They checked on her every day, though there was never anything new. They always found her the exact same way they had left her, and it never varied. She spent most of her time just lying in bed or on the couch, staring at nothing. Last time Ron had left, she had motivation to keep moving. Now what was there? There was nothing. This time, she wasn't helping The Chosen One save the world. So she just lay, a limp rag doll, a waste of oxygen.

Thoughts like these continuously circled in her mind, and the only things keeping her from just leaving the world completely were her best friends' encouraging and comforting words. Ronald Billius Weasley did not deserve her life. This was all the strength she could muster, she didn't even have the energy to get up. Finally, ten days after the break-up, Ginny came in and smiled at her mischievously.

"You're going for a walk," she said.

"A walk? Why?"

"You'll see." Ginny winked. She extracted a gorgeous blue blouse from her purse, the color of the ocean at its most beautiful. It flowed so it perfectly imitated waves far away from shore. It was strapless, with a simple neckline. There would be nothing to cover her shoulders. Next, Ginny pulled out a pair of white skinny jeans, which were, as well as the blouse, absolutely stunning. The two pieces fit together perfectly, as if designed for each other. Maybe they were. She held them out to Hermione. "Take a shower and put these on."

"For a walk?!"

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Hermione. Need I spell out the reason you're going to wear this?"

Hermione flushed in understanding. She obeyed Ginny. After all, her best friend was the most popular girl in her year when they were at Hogwarts.

The cool water instantly took effect. It left Hermione refreshed, with a much better outlook on life. She groaned silently when she remembered she had showered once in the past week. And at the time she was still too numb to let the water heal her. She finally stepped out of her twenty minute long shower and walked to the clothes waiting for her on the bed. She bit her thumbnail. She felt better, but was she really decent enough to be meeting new guys? According to Ginny, absolutely.

She pulled on the blouse and jeans. To be honest with herself, she felt better than she had in ages. When she looked in the mirror, she felt even better. Instead of the usual work-tired Hermione that usually looked back at her, there was a rested and nicely dressed Hermione in the glass. She smiled at herself. Ginny had evened out her hair, so it looked good, too. She began working with it, and gave up after a few seconds. If there was one thing that had not changed about her hair, it was how completely unmanageable it was.

"Fairy godmother's here," called Ginny, knocking on the door. She strode in and stared at Hermione for a few seconds. She nodded approvingly. "I knew these would look amazing on you! Now for your hair..."

The next fifteen minutes were spent with Ginny's fingers working their magic (maybe literally) through Hermione's hair. When she was finished, Ginny smiled. "I did my best!" Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She gasped.

"Ginny, how did you do this?"

"Oh, erm... it's kind of complicated. I did have to- well, never mind."

Hermione touched her hair. It was perfectly straight, with a deep right side part. There was a bobby pin with a trident decoration on the side with most hair. Even the new length, which she wasn't used to, contributed to making Hermione look beautiful. "How much potion did you use?" she asked, awestruck.

"I didn't use potion," said Ginny. "Just a super strength straightening spell and my fingers. It was hard, though."

"Thank you!" Hermione hugged her friend.

"It was no problem," smiled Ginny.

Hermione looked down at her feet and realized she wasn't wearing shoes. "I don't have anything..."

"C'mon, yes you do!" Ginny grinned widely.

She opened the door to Hermione's closet, making Hermione gasp again. "What- Ginny! Where are my clothes, my- my shoes?!"

"Well, while you were, er, just lying there, I kind of made over your closet."

"Typical," Hermione laughed.

Seeming pleased Hermione didn't get angry at her, or worse, Ginny danced over to a pair of sandals that matched the blue on Hermione's blouse. "You'll wear these!"

After studying the sandals for a few seconds, Hermione nodded. "Seems...reasonable."

"You are just so cooperative today," Ginny approved.

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped on the sandals. "Okay. So now what?"

Ginny handed her a designer white purse. "Shopping! There's about a hundred or so Galleons in there."

"Ginny, I'm not spending a hundred Galleons in one day! And besides, I'm just going for a walk, you said so yourself."

"You never know." Ginny shrugged. "Maybe something will catch your eye."

"Ginny, this is... first you say a walk, and now you say shopping."

"I just want you to get out of this place! I don't care where you go or what you do, but just meet somebody, make a new friend or something, preferably male. I don't want you hung up over Ron as if he deserves it."

"You act as if you're not going with me."

"Of course I'm not! This a day for YOU."

"Ginny, please! You know me, I'll probably go to Flourish and Blotts and come back with five new books!"

"That's true, but come on Hermione! Take a day for yourself."

"Fine, but..." Hermione's idea gave her hope Ginny's plan wouldn't fail. "But wouldn't it be so much more fun if we made it a girl's afternoon?"

Ginny hesitated. "Well, maybe. But-"

"Come on, Ginny! We can go to Hogsmeade and then get our nails done."

"Is that a Muggle thing?"

Hermione nodded. "They decorate your fingernails and sometimes your toenails if you want them to."

"Okay, but only because of that Muggle thing."

They left the apartment, and Hermione barely got a glimpse of Harry rolling his eyes before the door closed.

"So do we go do our nails first?" asked Ginny.

"Nope, it's supposed to be relaxing. Don't you generally relax after a long day of shopping?"

"Oh! Okay!" Ginny took her elbow. "You'll have to Side-Along, sorry."

"Ginny, where are we going? Weren't we going to Hogsmeade?"

"Well since you asked me to come with you, I thought I would show you a Wizarding shopping centre not far from here."

"Wizarding shopping centre?"

"Yes. Come on, Hermione!" And before Hermione could protest, they turned on the spot and landed on soft grass.

There were people all around them, wearing what seemed like the most luxurious and expensive clothing and robes ever made, going from shop to shop. Giggling groups of teenage girls were huddled around, some watching passing boys, others comparing clothes. Older, more dignified ladies were buying perfumes and robes. Men around Hermione's age walked with their girlfriends or maybe wives. They all looked like they could buy a small country and have enough left over to last them another two lifetimes. Hermione immediately felt out of place.

"Ginny," she said earnestly.

"Hermione," Ginny imitated. "Just give it a chance, okay?"

"These people could buy out the Ministry of Magic if they wanted to."

"Your point?"

"My point is that everything here seems expensive. It all probably costs a hundred Galleons."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione. I didn't give you a hundred Galleons. I gave you a lot more. I knew you wouldn't agree to this if you knew how much it is. I don't even know how much it is."

"And you honestly expect me to still be on board with this?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you're already here," Ginny reasoned. "You're already dressed. You have the Galleons. So yes."

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "Let's go buy some stupid whatevers."

Ginny grinned. "Er, mind if a grab a few Galleons? I saw something over there." She pointed in the general direction of a jewelry store.

"Take all you want."

Ginny pulled out a handful of Galleons and a few Sickles. "Thanks, 'Mione!"

"No problem. I'll wait for you here."

"You aren't coming?"

Hermione glanced at the tidy windows of the shop. Her gaze zeroed in on a necklace just like the one Ron had given her once. Maybe this was where he had bought it.

Ginny looked over too. "Oh, er, nevermind," she said as if remembering something unpleasant, confirming Hermione's suspicions. "I'll be right back then."

Hermione wandered to a wooden bench and settled down.

"Hermione!"

She turned. A tall dark-skinned wizard stood with a slightly shorter, slim witch with long jet black hair. "Hi, Blaise! Pansy!"

"Is this what you're taking time off work for?" joked Blaise. "Shopping?"

"I wish," Hermione sighed. "But no. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for all this time. How's everything?"

"Can we not talk about work? I'm trying to take a break!"

"Sorry," laughed Hermione.

"You're not here by yourself, are you?" Pansy cut in. Always the subtle one.

"No, I'm here with Ginny. She's off buying who-knows-what."

"And you're just sitting here? Typical you."

"And you're buying out half the place?" Hermione eyed the many bags in both Blaise and Pansy's hands. "Typical you."

"Well, let's balance each other out then!" Pansy suggested. "We'll join you and Ginny. Or will you join us?"

"They'll join us, of course. We're the bigger group," Blaise said.

"The bigger group?" asked Hermione. "Last I checked, two is equal to two."

"Hilarious, 'Mione." Pansy said. "Draco and Astoria are with us. They're off somewhere. And last I checked, four is more than two."

"Malfoy is with you? God I haven't seen him since the war ended."

"Yes, Astoria and Draco went to buy something he promised his mother, I think." Blaise made of point of emphasizing his name.

"What about his-" Hermione began, but was cut off by Ginny.

"I'm back, Hermione!" She looked at Blaise and Pansy. "Hello, Zabini. And Parkin-"

"Zabini," corrected Pansy. "We're married now."

"Ah, Ginny. They want us to join them," Hermione said. "Malfoy, I mean, Draco, is with them."

Ginny shrugged. "Fine by me."

"Oh, there's Draco," Blaise said. "Be right back."

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Pansy looked over Hermione's shoulder curiously. "What's wrong with them?" she wondered aloud.

Hermione turned and saw Blaise and Malfoy talking to each other, Astoria off to the side looking upset. More like arguing, it seemed. Blaise pointed to where Hermione, Pansy, and Ginny were standing and Malfoy looked their way quickly. His mouth formed her name. He looked surprised, agitated. Blaise tried to calm him to no avail; he just became more insistent. He said something that made Blaise go pale and look around. Blaise knit his eyebrows together and took a deep breath. He spoke more calmly to Malfoy, and they seemed to come to a grudging agreement. As they walked back to the women, Hermione glimpsed something in Malfoy's eyes she had only seen once before. Fear.

"What was that about?" asked Pansy.

"Nothing," Malfoy said hastily. "Er, Granger, Weaslette." He nodded.

"Malfoy," Hermione and Ginny replied in unison.

"Honestly, first names please?" Pansy demanded. "It's not like we're at work."

"Sorry, Pans," said Hermione. "Hello, Draco. Astoria." His name felt foreign on her tongue, as Pansy and Blaise's once did.

"Draco," Ginny murmured.

"Hermione, Ginevra," Malf- Hermione caught herself. Draco offered.

Ginny scowled at him. "It's Ginny."

"Sorry." Before Astoria could say anything, he towed her away. "Well, we should be off. Lots of things to do."

 

"Draco. . ." said Blaise, but he was silenced with a look. As Draco and Astoria walked away, Blaise shook his head. "Sometimes I swear he's bipolar. He'll be back. Of that much I'm certain."

After their meeting with Malfoy, the four of them were on their merry way around the centre. The afternoon turned into evening, which didn't ruffle any of them in the least. Hermione was enjoying herself more than she had in ages, having drinks and stopping to grab a snack to nibble on every so often. If Harry were here, it would make the trip complete, but it was still the time of her life. If it weren't for that, it would have perfect. Eventually, Ginny pointed out that Harry would be wondering where they were, as he had never been at that shopping centre before.

"You're right," Hermione said. "Oh God, I completely lost track of time!" She put down the designer trainers she was holding in her hand and checked the time on her cell phone. "It's eleven o' three!"

She looked up to find Pansy, Blaise, Malfoy (who had grudgingly joined them after running into them once again), and Astoria looking at her phone quizzically.

"It's a cell phone. . ." she said.

"Muggle technology?" Malfoy asked.

"Yes."

He shrugged and looked away, the remainder of the former Slytherins copying him. "We should go," Hermione said. She gave each Pansy and Blaise a hug, hesitating at Malfoy and Astoria.

"I'll walk you out," he offered. "I actually have to tell you something. I'll only be second, Astoria."

It might have been Hermione's imagination, but she could have sworn she saw Blaise stiffen and his jaw clench. He cleared his throat loudly.

"Okay. . ." agreed Hermione, confused. Since when did Draco Malfoy escort her to the door? Especially with his pureblood Slytherin girlfriend there.

As they walked through the shopping centre, not much was said. It wasn't until they had reached the pavilion where Hermione and Ginny had arrived that Malfoy spoke. "Listen, er, Ginny. Could I have a word in private with. . .Hermione?"

"Uhh, I guess that's up to her."

"Its fine, Gin," said Hermione. Ginny nodded and went off to sit on a bench.

Draco pulled Hermione off into a dark corner. She spun around to protest, but when she saw his face; pale, fearful, she stopped.

"Granger, I-I've been been trying to find you for the past two weeks, but. . ." He shook his head. "I have to tell you something. It's very important, you have to listen when I tell you this!" He shook her wrist.

"All- all right!" She began to get scared too. The last time Malfoy had been like this, though she hadn't seen him, but Harry had, was when he spoke to Voldemort.

He took a deep breath and pulled back the left sleeve of his white shirt. Hermione flinched, seeing the Dark Mark on his arm. It looked like all the other Dark Marks she had ever seen, except for one thing. It was darker. Malfoy grimaced. "Granger, You-Know-Who is back. And- he's after you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I totally forgot I had Indispensable on this site! Definitely updating more often!


	3. Chapter 3

"He's got to be lying!" Ginny gripped the edge of Hermione's mattress. "Voldemort's dead! We watched him die, it's not possible!"

"Gin, I saw Malfoy's Dark Mark," Hermione said. "It's hard to believe, I know. If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have believed it either. It was almost black! You know how the Marks fade. Voldemort's not dead. And he's getting more and more powerful every day."

"No, Hermione!" Ginny protested. "Malfoy's just trying to scare you. He-he did something to it, he made it like that."

"I wish that were true, but what could he have done?" Hermione asked. "I'm only being rational here. What possible motive would he have to frighten me?"

"He's still bitter toward you," Ginny suggested. "And what about Zabini? And Parkinson?"

"Blaise and Pansy never got a Mark, Ginny. They were supporters for a time, but they never became full-fledged Death Eaters." Ginny still had a stubborn look in her eyes, and Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Ginny, I don't want to believe this! Not half as much as you do. I don't want more problems! But if Malfoy is telling the truth, then he's telling the truth and there's no way around it. No one wants Voldemort to come back. But remember when no one would believe Harry? See what happened? We can't risk it again."

Ginny glared at her. "Fine. Let's say you choose to believe the big-headed, arrogant-"

"Not that I disagree with you, but get to the point."

"What would we do, then? How would Voldemort still be alive? Why would he be after you and not Harry? None if it makes any sense."

Hermione shook her head. "I wish I knew. But-" she stopped and looked at Ginny. "Did you just say 'we?'"

"Yes."

"No. There's no 'we,'" Hermione said. "I'm not putting you in danger."

"Don't be stupid. There is no danger, Hermione. I don't care what Malfoy says, I don't believe him. All of Voldemort's Horcruxes were destroyed, he basically killed himself. Don't worry about it, he's lying."

"He's not!"

"Are you under the Imperius Curse or something?" Ginny asked incredulously. "How would you know?"

Hermione hesitated. She didn't know. But there was a feeling, a strange sensation that Malfoy was telling the truth, no matter how far-fetched it seemed. She couldn't tell Ginny that, obviously. She'd take her for mad. Harry had never had "just a feeling." He always had dreams, visions, tell-tale signs that the most evil wizard in centuries was back. She repeated Ginny's question in her mind. Why would Voldemort be after her and not Harry? The thought was preposterous. She was never as skilled as Harry, as brave, as selfless as he was. All she did was bury her head in a book and hope she stumbled across an answer. Logic. That was all she wanted. A logical explanation for everything. But Harry knew there wasn't always one. He was the only dangerous one in their little trio, the only one who ever stood a chance.

"I don't know," she admitted finally. She didn't wish to tell Ginny about the feeling. Fear was all it was. "I guess he could be lying."

"Because he is." Ginny tried not to look too proud of herself. However, Hermione was still not convinced though she didn't say so.

"I guess I have to go back to work tomorrow," she said instead. "God, it's like going back to school after a holiday!"

"You're planning on going back already?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. I've missed more than a week!"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "Well, then I guess I should show you this." She tossed Hermione some copies of a popular gossip magazine.

Hermione picked them up curiously. On the cover of one, there was a picture of her smiling and waving with Ron's arms wrapped around her, their faces flushed and with snow clinging to their hair. She remembered that day. Last year, actually only a few months ago, in December. They were running around, throwing snowballs at each other like small children. That had to be one of the best days of her life. Ginny had taken the photo, calling them "immature little five-year-olds" because of how often Ron would pick her up and spin her around. A tight knot formed in Hermione's throat and it took all her will power not to cry. They looked so happy, as if they would be together for the rest of their lives. She didn't even wonder how the magazine had gotten their hands on the photo. She tore her eyes from it and flipped to the article.

 **GOLDEN COUPLE BROKEN UP?**  the headline screamed.

**For over three years, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have been one of the most talked-about couples in Britain, second only to Ron's sister and his best friend, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Half of the country seems to have been jealous of Hermione and the other half of Ron. But now, these two appear to be no more. Last year, during a short talk with each of them individually, they revealed how in love they were with each other. But this photo of them (cover) is the last we have seen of them looking purely happy together. They are rarely seen together now, and never by themselves. So this leads to the question: Have they moved on? Editor Jamaica Ryans got a private talk with the ginger heart throb. However, he didn't seem to be very anxious to disclose any information about his romantic life. When asked if he and Hermione were still dating, he answered in a very blunt and forceful way, saying, "I don't know what kind of rumours have spread around, but I am neither confirming nor denying any of them." So is the Golden Couple broken up? Or are they just tired of publicity?**

Hermione's fingers shook. "It's in magazines now?!"

Ginny grimaced and pointed to the other one. "That's not all. This issue was released just yesterday. Go to page 57."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She went to the page Ginny had instructed, and what she saw almost made her scream in rage. Smack in the center of the page was a fiery red head she knew far too well bent over a smaller, slimmer figure. It depicted Ronald Billius Weasley kissing an actress named Jennifer Sera.

**Ron Weasley, best known for helping Harry Potter defeat Lord Voldemort, and famous boyfriend of Hermione Granger, was spotted kissing another girl in plain view only a few days ago! And not just any girl, it was none other than starlet Jennifer Sera! Last week, Hermione Granger stopped going in public, and resources tell us she did not attend work for ten days. Could this be the reason for her disappearance? Or is Ron sneaking around behind her back? We have not been able to get any attention from any of the three, but-**

The words blurred on the page as Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Angry, shocked, pained. It seemed her heart was still mourning. Without warning, she tore the magazine in half. And again. And again, until it was nothing more than a pile of shredded glossy paper. Her hands were clenched, her nails digging into her palm. Hermione didn't hear the door opening, she didn't realize Harry was kneeling next to her until he pried open her hands.

"Stop," he whispered. He pulled her into a hug as Ginny held her hand.

Hermione refused to look up at him, instead fixed her eyes somewhere out the window.

"He's never coming back," she said blankly. "We'll never be together again."

She felt nauseated. Despite their break-up, despite Ron's extremely valid and unchangeable explanation, Hermione had still hoped they might get back together. Now it was clear that wasn't going to happen.

"I'll be right back," said Ginny. She stood up and walked away, her footsteps loud against the tiled floor.

"Is it Ron again?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and sighed. She waved her wand at the torn up magazine. It flew back together and she handed it Harry.

His eyes widened when he saw the photo. He scanned the article, frowning, shaking his head, or wincing occasionally.

"Did you, erm, did you read the entire thing?" He glanced at her uneasily.

"No, I-I just. . ." managed Hermione before looking at the photo again and feeling like she was in her own personal little Hell. She blinked rapidly. "I just read to the part where- where it said they couldn't get in contact with- with us."

She stood up and took deep breaths. Hermione paced around the room for a bit to clear her mind. As she rubbed her temples, Ginny walked in, holding a mug in her hands. She held it out to Hermione, who took it tentatively.

"It's regular tea," Ginny reassured her. "There's no potion in it."

Hermione nodded and took a sip. It tasted lovely, with honey and maybe a touch of lemon. "Thank you, Ginny."

"No problem." Ginny gave her the same uneasy look Harry had. "Are you sure you want to go to work tomorrow? It's perfectly understandable if you don't, if you just want to stay home for a while longer. I'm sure no one will-"

"Ginny," Hermione interrupted. "I've already missed ten days. I can't miss more. I'm not being paid for this, you know. And anyways, the sooner I get out of here the better. It'll help me deal."

Ginny bit her lip and hugged Hermione. "Just don't break down at work, okay? You have Harry's cellcone number, just call him there and it'll take me no more than five minutes to be with you."

Hermione smiled a bit at Ginny's mispronunciation of the word cellphone and at her protectiveness. She was very much like her mother, though if anyone told her that, they'd be hexed to the next galaxy. "I'll be fine," Hermione said. "Harry's an Auror, he'll be around. He'll keep an eye on me." She glanced at him with a look she hoped portrayed the message Bother me tomorrow, you die. Or something along those lines.

He smirked at her but nodded at Ginny. She calmed almost immediately.

"All right. Take care tomorrow." She and Harry began walking out, but Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm. Harry glanced back, but Hermione waved him on. After giving them a curious look, he went on his way.

"If you utter a single detail of what we discussed today to Harry, I swear-" muttered Hermione.

"I won't," Ginny agreed easily. "It's all a load of rubbish anyway. Why get him all riled up for no reason?"

"Good." Despite the fact that a half of Hermione believed Malfoy, if it took Ginny not believing a single word of it for her to not tell Harry, then so be it.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Hermione felt extremely unwilling to get up. She groaned at the prospect of facing the busy Ministry again, complete with purple aeroplanes and wizards and witches bustling around in their formal, stiff, business-like way. She hadn't felt this way for years, ever since she missed days on end of Muggle school and finally had to go back. Only the thought that Blaise was working on their project alone made Hermione climb out of her too-comfortable and still Ron-scented bed. The smell brought her heartache, of course, but she couldn't bear to part with it. She wanted to deceive herself, for just a moment, that he was still there.

The quick shower she took woke her up enough, and by the time she got out she felt cold and fresh. Digging out clothes for that day proved to be an astronomical task, as Ginny had hidden all of Hermione's usual work clothes God knows where. After much pawing through skirts, blouses, and pants, she found a suitable-looking work blouse and dragged herself to the mirror where she found a note, written in Ginny's unmistakable script.

_Hermione Granger, I swear if you ignore this, I will know. There's a bit of hair potion behind the mirror, it won't do anything to it except make it more manageable and shiny. Just comb it in with your fingers and let it work its magic. There's also some self-applying make up back there, use that too. Don't ignore me, I already made Harry promise to tell me whether he saw you wearing them or not. You'd better be wearing something decent because now that you're available, you better make it pretty damn obvious._

Hermione shook her head and smiled. She was about to do what Ginny so insisted she didn't, but then decided against it. Using a bit of potion to make her hair a bit softer couldn't hurt. She ran it through her hair; it instantly became a silkiness she never knew it had the potential to be. She grinned. This wasn't too bad. Hermione removed the magic on the make up bag, positive that when she opened it, it would attack her face with powders and creams she did not want. She carefully applied some light make up, which surprisingly was not difficult. In fact, when she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt better than she had when Ron had kissed her back so fervently in front of the Room of Requirement. Hermione almost lost herself in gone memories, but stopped herself. It was her first day back at work, she couldn't let herself go.

She decided to make something to eat at work; eating here would only send her into another fit of tears.

As she closed the door behind her, it finally hit her what people must be saying right now. Did they think her a coward? Or were they just lusting after more gossip to get their hands on? _What do you care what others think?_ she thought to herself.  _They're nothing_   _important._ But as she walked out of the Wizarding apartment building, she couldn't help but feel that everyone was silently watching her; judging her invisibly as if under Harry's cloak. She tried not to let it get to her, but the sensation of being watched felt too much to just be her imagination. She scurried off to the only part of the complex that allowed Apparition, right outside the office. After a quick glance around that proved no one was peeking behind their curtains, she vanished to later reappear in front of the restrooms leading to the Ministry.

She grimaced and waited until it was her turn to step into a stall. Despite doing this every day for the past year, Hermione was revolted as she stepped into the toilet. She always expected her legs to become soaked, but thankfully they never did. Impatient murmurs made her proceed and she was sucked into the Ministry.

It was as busy as ever, the promised memos and people bustling around everywhere. A few people greeted her, asked her why she was gone for so long. Her hasty response was, "Personal business." Obviously everyone translated that into "problems with Ron," but it couldn't have been closer to the truth anyways. She got quite a few stares she didn't understand until she remembered how she had changed her appearance. Apparently make-up and styling made a huge difference. After navigating the maze that was what seemed like every witch and wizard in London, she was pushed into a lift. The lift was probably at maximum capacity with the added peskiness of flying lilac memos. Needless to say, she was not at her most comfortable. Finally, she came to her floor and pushed past the wizards and witches still in the lift. After a quick "I'm sorry," to a woman she felt was jostled exceptionally badly, she trudged to her office.

"Has anything happened while I've been out?" she asked her assistant Maya. Maya was a pretty, short girl with tan skin and wide brown eyes. Her hair was an extremely dark brown with slight hints of red in it when looked at the right way and in the right lighting. It was cropped short just below her chin, so it framed her face prettily.

"No, only Mr. Zabini's reports have been coming in," Maya replied. "And those stopped the day before yesterday."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you Maya, could you call him to my office, please?"

"Of course, Ms. Granger." Maya paused for a few seconds. Just as Hermione began to make her way past her, she spoke up. "Ms. Granger?"

"Yes?" Hermione turned.

"I- I, er, well, outside of just work I've sort of considered us friends. . ."

"Of course," Hermione smiled.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why haven't you been here?" Immediately, she blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No, it's all right," said Hermione. "The rumours are true. I've just recently broken up and I needed some personal time."

"Oh." Maya glanced down at the papers in front of her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Oh, no! You weren't prying!" Hermione gave her a smile before heading into her office.

She closed the door behind her quickly and quietly. Eventually someone was going to ask. But simply having to tell someone Ron had broken up with her put her perilously close to tears. Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe coming back had not been the right idea. Maybe she wasn't ready. Hermione shook her head. Of course she was ready. The fact that she had gone shopping with Ginny was a testament to that, right? And now than Ron had moved on, she would too. Her eyes watered; she wiped them impatiently.

"Ms Granger?" Maya knocked on the door and opened it a crack. "Mr Zabini is here."

"Thank you, Maya," Hermione said. "Let him in, will you?"

Maya nodded, her expression sheepish, and shut the door. Hermione composed herself in the few seconds she had. She grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes, praying her makeup was waterproof. She straightened her shoulders and put on her usual business-like confidence, Blaise might be a friend, but this was work.

He was ushered in by Maya, who, Hermione noticed, couldn't look her in the eye.

"It's over," said Blaise as soon as the door closed. He met Hermione's eyes with his coffee-colored own. A tad of sadness lingered behind them. "Wursche was found guilty. Eighty-year sentence in Azkaban, some people think it should be more."

Hermione sucked in a breath. Her eyes pricked. "How much evidence did they find?" she asked tightly.

"Two old and dusty Dark artefacts. Neither were in his bedroom. 'Fact, they were in his sister's." His voice was bitter.

"His sister. . . The one who abandoned their home ten years ago, with absolutely no trace? The one who never let anyone touch her left arm?"

"The very same. The Wizengamot think Wursche used her bedroom as a hideaway for what they found."

"Ha!" Hermione exclaimed humourlessly. "The Wizengamot believe what they want to! What about his sister?"

"Free to roam."

Hermione dropped her head into her hands. "This is so unfair."

"I know, Hermione. But there's nothing we can do." There was the sound of movement and she looked up to find that Blaise had taken a seat in front of her. He leaned over to wipe away a stray year and that did it. Her eyes filled to the brim with tears and emptied over and over, a single stream of wetness down her cheeks.

"It's my fault," she whispered. "We could have proven him innocent, you know. If I hadn't taken all that time off, we could have found something. But I was stupid and selfish. And now? Because of me, that man is going to Azkaban for the rest of his life."

"No, Hermione. It wasn't your fault," Blaise said. "We did everything we could."

Neither of them spoke, Blaise held her hand across the desk. His hand was a comforting pressure as she cried over the cruelty of the world. After a few minutes, Hermione's eyes were dry. She looked up at Blaise and bit the inside of her bottom lip. "I'm sorry."

Blaise shook his head. "I know there's a lot going on with you right now. What with the break-up and then-" He stopped and changed the topic. "What did Draco tell you? Yesterday."

Malfoy's words and her conversation with Ginny, all but forgotten, sounded in her head. "Why?" She didn't want to seem rude to Blaise, but it was a touchy subject and despite her insistence at believing Malfoy, she didn't want anyone to get worked up in case it really was nothing.

"Because I know what's happened."

"Why ask me if you already know?"

"So he's got to at least have told you Voldemort's back, right?"

Hermione sighed. So he did know. "Yes. That's all, though. He just told me that he's back and he's after me."

Blaise nodded grimly. "There's a lot more to it, Hermione, but trust me when I say it, it's best if you keep this quiet. If we can manage to defeat him while he's still weak-"

"Blaise." He looked at her questioningly. "I'm not sure I believe it. I mean, it's not something to joke about, but what if Malfoy's just overreacting and jumping to conclusions?"

Blaise shook his head. "No Hermione, I don't think so. Draco says they're keeping Voldemort at the Manor."

"But has he actually seen him?" Hermione insisted.

"There are former Death Eaters everywhere around the house. Draco doesn't live there anymore, but the times he's there, he talks to his father about it. Their guest rooms are packed." He checked Hermione's wall clock. "Merlin! I should get back to work!"

He jumped up, so quickly he knocked over his chair. Hermione watched and through her thoughts, she was a bit amused. She smiled as he straightened the chair. He grinned at her then seemed to remember something. "Here's the next case," he said, tossing her an envelope. "We're officially partners in crime, er, fighting now!"

"Great!" Hermione smiled. When she looked inside the envelope though, her face fell. She groaned. "This ought to be fun."

"Enjoy yourself." Blaise winked before he left the office and Hermione found something to throw at him.

The rest of her day was exceptionally boring and uneventful; she had her head buried in documents and familiarizing herself with the case. Or at least trying to. Now that Blaise had brought it up, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to what Malfoy had said. And on top of that what Blaise had said. Could it really be true? Was he pulling a distasteful prank? Or was he truly convinced?

In the midst of her thoughts and the monotony of reading parchments, Harry paid her a visit. He asked her how she was and Hermione didn't miss his worried and sympathetic tone. She responded with a roll of the eyes, "fine," and a glare. She probably should have been more grateful, after all, she had been crying her eyes out earlier.

But as soon as he left, she went back to thinking. After exhausting every last reason and possibility, she decided that he had jumped to a wild conclusion. Sure, there were people at the Manor, and there might have been a few former Death Eaters but that didn't mean anything. Voldemort had practically killed himself. Content in her decision, she attempted to read more on the case, but after ten minutes, it was obvious it was time to call it a day.

Hermione packed up her things, sent them to her flat, and stretched. Finally, after a long day, she as going home. She said goodbye to her colleagues and stepped out into the almost-dusk. Smiling, she began her short walk.

As Hermione walked, a rough hand closed around her arm. She was dragged into a hard body with a thud. The hand moved from her arm to her throat as she was turned, her face in the man's shirt. She tried to scream, but her airways were blocked, causing her an intense pain. She tried wriggling and struggling, also to no avail.

"There, there, dove," crooned a voice that made Hermione's skin crawl. "None of that. So you're her? Not bad for a Mudblood. Maybe we can Obliviate you or something, keep you as my slave." She heard a chuckle as she was pressed against the wall and another rough hand traveled down her arm and to her hips. A murmur of assent. "I'll be using you often." A silent spell was cast. She saw bright sparks of color before she passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione awoke, alert yet unable to move. Something was holding her down tightly. She began to struggle against her binds when she heard voices approaching.

"She still out?" grunted a male voice.

Someone kicked Hermione in the stomach. She succeeded at not crying out in pain, but only just.

"What d'you think?" This voice was also male, but lower pitched.

"What could he want with a Mudblood?" the first man asked disgustedly.

"'Ell if I know," said the second. "I think she was close to Potter. Somthin' like that." He picked her up roughly by the hair.

"Put her down," said a lazily commanding voice. She felt she should recognize it, but her memory failed her.

"Says who?" challenged the first man.

"Says I, and if that is not enough for you, then the Dark Lord does as well."

"'Doubt 'e cares 'bout the Mudblood's comfort," sneered the second.

"Are you directly disobeying orders, Jurney?" asked the all-too-familiar-sounding man, a threat in his voice. "Need I map out to you the Lord's every plan and thought? If you so wish, I will take you to him so you learn your lesson."

Jurney's hands clenched around Hermione's hair before she was shoved forward. "G'luck. Unconscious."

"Easily fixed," drawled the voice.

All of Hermione's will power had been put into not jumping up and running away from these men, as instinct screamed at her to do. Instinct won over, however, when she felt a sharp sting on her cheek. Her eyes flew open.

"She's awake," said the first man, smirking. It appeared he was barely suppressing laughter. Jurney however, let out a series of loud chuckles.

"Look like it, don't it, Lozan!" he chortled.

Hermione cringed, but her attention was drawn elsewhere. She was able to now put a face to the voice, and a name to the face. His cold grey eyes stared down at her, his lips twisted in a sneer. His eyes flashed. His skin was pale, paler than any else's. Almost white- blond hair grew atop his head. There was only one man who looked like that.

"Lozan, carry the filth to the Dark Lord," ordered Lucius Malfoy.

The man grunted and pulled her up roughly. Hermione stared straight ahead, her expression stony; or so she hoped. Behind her mask of bravery, she was trembling in fear. No Harry now to save her. No Ron. No one here was on her side. She could try to break away, but then what? She was outnumbered three to one. Besides, she realized as she tried to pat her pockets, she didn't have her wand. Her situation was hopeless. An uncontrolled tremor ran down her body and Lozan chuckled. Each step felt heavier and heavier, the path feeling too finally reached tall wooden doors, and Malfoy Sr grabbed her from Lozan.

"Leave," he said. Lozan and Jurney scurried away, leaving Hermione alone with Malfoy Sr. He glanced around quickly before opening the door and shoving her in. She fell on the floor, her body aching. She waited for the high-pitched voice, but it never came. Instead, a different voice, female, sounded quietly through the room.

"Get up!" she commanded. "We haven't got forever! We need to get you out of here!"

Hermione looked up. A young girl, about her age, with tamed curly auburn hair was waving to her wildly. She jumped up, following the girl to a passage. Hermione peered inside; it was dark and the air was humid and hot. Clearly, it hadn't been opened in far too long. "Where will this take me?" she asked.

"Someone in there will take you to his flat, from there you can go to your own," the girl explained. "Go!"

Hermione climbed in and was grabbed around the waist. Whoever it was threw her over his shoulder like a doll and held out a pale hand to the girl.

"No, you have to go! There's not enough time to have me tagging along!" the girl said desperately.

"Marianna. . ." urged the man.

"I'll make it out, alright?" she, Marianna, hissed. "He won't do anything to me, now hurry!"

There was a hesitation, and then he was running. Marianna watched them anxiously, then dashed out of the room. His strides were long; they were through the passage quickly. Hermione saw the starry night outside, but as the reached the end, he didn't slow down, instead he jumped to the ground and ran at the same speed. Hermione couldn't help but feel that a bunch of Death Eaters would pop out out of nowhere, but they didn't. He pressed a long, hard something into her hand. Her wand.

"Thank you," she said.

He only grunted, and at a random point, he turned. Hermione was sucked into suffocating darkness and landed in a sitting room she didn't know. She whirled around to find none other than Draco Malfoy settling himself in an armchair. His facial features were twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. Hermione felt a rush of irritation and dislike, despite the fact he had done nothing wrong.

"You?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "You helped me out of there?"

"You're welcome, Granger." He waved a hand lazily. "Have a seat."

"I think I'll stand thanks," she said, crossing her arms.

"It wasn't a request," said Malfoy. "Sit."

"I'll stand," Hermione insisted.

"Fine."

"Why am I here?" Hermione demanded after a silence. "Why you of all people? Why does Voldemort want me?"

"Well," Malfoy began with exaggerated patience. "You're here because I don't know where you live. Why me, hell if I know. Voldemort wants you because you're the 'brains' of the Gold Trio or whatever. Potter and Weasley are obviously empty-headed numb-skulls if they need you. According to Voldemort, you're 'indispensable to the world.' Couldn't disagree more, myself, but whatever he says, goes. Oh yeah, in case you didn't realize," He gestured to himself. "We're the good guys now.

But if you just hadn't left your flat like I told you, though, you wouldn't have gone through all this. And you wouldn't be in my flat right now, with me explaining everything to you. Stupid, reckless Gryffindor."

Hermione bristled. "I'd say I missed your insults, Malfoy, but I don't lie. I'm not Slytherin enough. If you'll excuse me, and even if you won't."

She made her way to the front door, but Malfoy was in front of her. His chest was eye level, and she had to crane her neck to look at him. He was staring down at her. "I can't let you leave, Granger," he said softly. "Not until I make sure you can take care of yourself."

For a few seconds, Hermione thought he was serious. Then she realized he was mocking her. He wasn't concerned for her welfare. "Of course I can," she said coldly. Instead of heading toward the door, she turned on her heel and Apparated out.

When she arrived at her flat, it was dark and she saw four figures sitting on her sofa. Panicking and thinking the worst, she yanked out her wand. She was in the middle of uttering a spell when she recognized Harry, Ginny, Pansy, and Blaise. She felt her cheeks turn pink as she lowered her wand.

"Hello to you too," Harry said, grinning.

Hermione smiled sheepishly as Ginny descended on her like a vulture. "Thank Merlin you're alright!" she nearly shouted, burying her in a hug.

"Draco sent us a Patronus," Pansy explained. Her voice shook. "He told us you had been captured and that he and some spies would try to get you out."

"Wait, spies?!" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Yes," Blaise said. "There are people posing as Death Eaters who feed us information. The Malfoy family is our best asset. They've always beein in Voldemort's inner circle, and now they're on our side, we're pretty well off."

"The Malfoys? All of them?"

"You mean the three of them?" said Pansy. "Yeah."

"How long has Voldemort been back?" Hermione interrogated.

"Well, technically he's not back because he was never gone," Blaise admitted. "We didn't want to tell you, we thought you'd be safer. But Draco wanted to tell you all along. With what happened today. . ." He sighed and shook his head. "He was right. We should have told you sooner, keep you on guard. You could have died tonight!"

"Blaise, please." Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can't honestly be blaming yourself for this!"

"He can and he will!" said Pansy. "We were stupid!"

"When Pansy sent Ginny word of you being captured, we came straightaway," Harry said. "They were already here, waiting for you, and Blaise wouldn't stop talking about how it was their fault."

"Typical," Hermione chastised. "He's always been too noble, at least as long as I've known him."

"Can we please not talk about Blaise like he isn't here?" Blaise interrupted. "Blaise doesn't appreciate it!"

Hermione laughed, but a sudden pain in her side caused her to stop abruptly and double gasped, her hand just under her ribcage. They were at her side in an instant.

"Hermione, are you okay?" fretted Ginny.

"Are you ill?" Pansy added.

"I'm- I'm fine," said Hermione, straightening up slowly. "It's just where I got kicked."

"You were kicked? Why didn't you tell us?" Ginny demanded.

"Because I thought I would be killed and it didn't seem massively important."

"It might not be massively important, but we should still know," Pansy said.

"Yes, Mum," Hermione groaned, stalking to the kitchen.

"I already made dinner!" Pansy called. "It's in that cold box over there."

"The refrigerator, Pansy," Hermione reminded.

"That," Pansy said dismissively. "We were waiting for you, I couldn't eat at all 'till you got here."

"It's nearly midnight!"

"Yes well, seeing as we're staying the night, not a big deal," Ginny said.

"I can take care of myself," Hermione complained, hands on hips.

"Sure you can," Pansy said in a sweet voice.

Glowering, Hermione thrust open the refrigerator. "I'm not playing hostess tonight. You'll all find somewhere to sleep on your own."

She heated up the food and put it on the table. Hermione and her "guests" sat down, talking. Soon enough, the occurrences of the evening were forgotten. It pleased Hermione to see how well Harry and Blaise were getting on. As they ate and chatted, Hermione felt more at home in her flat than she had in two weeks. The talking and laughing of her friends, for whatever reason they were there, calmed her and she was enjoying herself. That is, until three sharp, impatient raps on the door stole her attention.

"I'll get it," Harry offered casually, as if she were expecting guests. Maybe the others were.

Blaise followed him to the door, and the three women exchanged confused glances. Who would be visiting Hermione at eleven thirty at night?

Harry's surprised voice answered them. "Malfoy?!"


	6. Chapter 6

"Yes Potter," replied a voice Hermione had heard only hours beforehand. "Here for a friendly visit with Granger?"

"I could be asking you the same thing," Harry jabbed.

"Draco!" Blaise intervened. "What're you doing here?"

"Blaise, you're here!" Malfoy's tone changed from jeering to relieved. "I thought we'd have to do it without you. Where's Granger?"

Hermione, who had stood up and walked over, nudged Blaise to the side. "I'm right here. What do you want?"

"Well, it's not so much as what I want because if it were up to me, I wouldn't be doing this," Malfoy said. "But I need you to come with me."

"Excuse me?" Hermione folded her arms.

"You heard me. I'll tell you on the way."

"On the way to what, exactly?" Harry asked.

Malfoy scowled. "I wasn't addressing you, was I? But seeing as you and Weaslette are here, you should come too." He frowned. "Come on. It's urgent."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Malfoy began walking, Blaise and Pansy behind him. She held back. A sinking feeling told her this was to be about Voldemort. After a few second's deliberation, she went after them, as did Harry and Ginny. The door locked itself as they left.

The six of them walked in silence until they reached a sleek blue car, which Malfoy slid into. Malfoy owned a car? The very best, of course, but a car? Wonders would never cease.

Once they were all situated comfortably, (a simple task, as the car had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it) Malfoy talked as he drove.

"We have to tell the Order of the Phoenix about Voldemort. We couldn't get him at his weakest so now we have to bring them in." he said grudgingly. "Granger will be able to testify and then we can work together to bring him down."

"Why now?" Pansy complained.

"The sooner the better, Pansy," Malfoy answered. "Right now we're meeting with father so Granger, Potter, and Weasley can contact other people. Hey," he said suddenly. "Where's that other Weasley? That one that-" He was interrupted by Pansy's death glare. "Never mind."

They arrived, finally, at their destination, an old house that looked entirely innocent. Malfoy led them to the door and did some intricate wand movements Hermione was sure she could not replicate, and led them inside. Indoors it was big but nothing grand, a staircase was on their left, and a short corridor led to a living. Obviously it was not one of the Malfoy residences.

The living room had no Muggle appliances: no telephone, no television, no electrical outlets. As if to make up for this, the room was filled with couches and armchairs, five of each. The seats however, were given very little attention; most people in the room were standing. Hermione assumed these were the spies.

She recognized a few: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass, and the girl who had helped Hermione escape. The rest of the faces were completely unfamiliar. They seemed to be in deep discussion and didn't notice them until Malfoy cleared his throat.

All of them looked up and Mr Malfoy beckoned them to join. Malfoy joined Astoria, who gripped his hand tightly.

"I presume you all know who Ms Hermione Granger is?" Mr Malfoy said as introduction. There was a universal nod across the room, which made Hermione uncomfortable. She didn't know half of these wizards, but they knew her. Mr Malfoy gestured at the three witches and two wizards across from her. "They are Andrea, Alicia, Carlyn, and Sam.

"I prefer to be called Andy," Andrea interrupted. "Spelled A-N-D-I-E-Y."

"We have more pressing issues to discuss," said the brunette that had helped Hermione. "I'm Marianna by the way. Also known as Ria."

Hermione smiled and nodded at them in greeting.

"Now, as I was about to say, Narcissa has contacted her sister Andromeda, and her husband Ted," said Mr Malfoy. "Meanwhile, Ms Granger, I must ask you, Mr Potter and Ms Weasley-"

"Mrs Potter," corrected Ginny.

"Yes, yes, Mrs Potter. I must ask you to contact anyone you may know to help, and any Order of the Phoenix members."

The three of them nodded.

"Are we going to decide anything before they get here?" asked Pansy.

"No, not yet," said Mr Malfoy. "We will wait for them. Please, all of you, make yourselves at home."

Hermione sighed and dragged Ginny down to sit with her on the nearest couch. The cherry on top to her tremendous day. A motion to the side caused her to look up. 

"I'm sorry for all this," said Astoria to her and Ginny. She took a seat next to Hermione. "Really, I wanted to wait until tomorrow, but Elizabeth and I were outvoted three to one. I told them you would want rest after what happened to you today, but obviously that didn't matter to them."

"Er. . don't worry about it," said Hermione. "It's not your fault."

Astoria grinned ruefully. "I know we didn't really get to talk that day at the shopping centre, Draco doesn't seem to be very fond of you." She frowned.

"Grudges are hard to drop," commented Ginny.

"Yes, but you'd think he'd let it go after three years," Astoria countered. "Plus all that time beforehand. He really has matured so much, I can't see how he couldn't get over a stupid school rivalry. After you and Harry saved his life, to boot, Hermione!"

Hermione shrugged. "We were never destined to be friends I suppose."

"To be honest, I thought you had a secret romance going on," Astoria teased. The thought was so outrageous that Hermione laughed out loud. It took her a few moments to note she was serious.

"You can't mean that!" she gasped.

"I can and I do," Astoria smirked. "You two had something. Something chemical. Maybe it was just to hate each other, but it was there."

"Pent-up sexual tension?" Ginny suggested, and Astoria laughed.

"Exactly! Honestly Hermione, I can't tell if you still have it or not, but it was a bit too much for a couple sixteen-year-olds. We always thought you two were just. . . letting it out of you know what I mean."

Hermione and Ginny both burst out laughing. Hermione was appalled but Ginny seemed to be enjoying it.

"You thought I was-" Hermione started, but Astoria pulled her and Ginny's hands. That's when she noticed the looks the three of them were getting and how mortifying saying that here and out loud would be.

"Let's take this conversation upstairs!" Astoria laughed. She tugged them to a bedroom where they all sat on the floor. "Continue, dearest."

Unfazed, Hermione said again, "You thought I was shagging your boyfriend?!"

"No," said Astoria. "He wasn't my boyfriend at the time."

"You know what I mean!"

"Alright then, yes."

"And here I was thinking you were off with Ron!" Ginny said. "Leaving the common room, off doing who knows what!"

Hermione glanced down and studied the floor. Ginny realized her mistake and went to Hermione.

"I'm sosorry, Hermione. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine," muttered Hermione.

"What is it?" asked Astoria, concerned.

"Ron and I broke up recently," Hermione whispered.

Astoria wrapped her arms around her. "I'm so sorry."

This was so strange. Hermione had known Astoria for all of a few minutes, yet it felt natural to be receiving her hug. Hermione returned both their hugs for a few seconds, then pulled away.

"This isn't a pity-Hermione party," she said. "This is a let's-admit-who-we-thought-Hermione-shagged party!"

"Neither of us said you were shagging anyone!" Astoria defended. She was back to normal, but with worry underlying in her eyes. "You just assumed!"

"So you weren't thinking it, either?" Hermione demanded.

"Nor did we say that!" Ginny grinned.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "I had one boyfriend while at Hogwarts!"

"So you did go out with Viktor Krum?!" Astoria yelped.

"Briefly," Hermione admitted. "He asked me to write."

"And did you?" begged Astoria.

"You'll kill me when I tell you," said Hermione. "But no."

"WHAT?" Astoria shrieked. "Why?!"

"He was a bit- creepy."

"Viktor Krum is much too hot to be creepy," Astoria reasoned.

"My thoughts exactly," Ginny agreed.

"Wait till your boyfriend and your husband find out about what you just said," Hermione teased.

"How was he creepy?" Astoria insisted dramatically. "How did the impossible happen?"

"He watched me study," Hermione said. "He was always in the library and then on the night he asked me to the Yule Ball, he also asked me out. Obviously I said yes because it was Viktor Krum. But later on he admitted he liked watching me study and that was why he was always in the library. I broke it off by not writing. You could say we're still officially dating because I never actually told him it's over!"

"For shame, Granger!" scolded Astoria. "Do you have any idea what anyone would give to be in your shoes? You dated Viktor Krum, and technically still are, you were best friends with the Chosen One. . ." you dated Ron Weasley. Astoria shook her head. "You are the most lucky person alive! You and Ginny both, I mean Ginny, you married Harry Potter!

"Do you know how many girls would love to be in your shoes? Draco Malfoy's girlfriend!" Ginny said.

Astoria waved that away. "It's not like we'll be married or anything."

"Who says?" asked Ginny.

"Oh Draco's a dear and everything," confessed Astoria. "But I honestly don't see us together in the long run. We like each other, but we're not in love. Love is when you feel a way no one has ever made you feel before." She shrugged. "Draco isn't it. I'm his first serious girlfriend, did you know? I hope he hasn't deluded himself into thinking he's in love. He's not. Love is a mutual thing, and I don't love him. I like him, as more than a friend, but it's not love." She put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Like you. You aren't in love with Ronald. You think you are, but someone better will come along, you'll see."

Hermione blinked. "I'm confused."

"With what?" Astoria asked, surprised.

"How were you in Slytherin?"

Astoria laughed and got up. "We should go down."

Hermione and Ginny followed, Hermione looking around as she did so. There were three bedrooms and a toilet. Despite the lack of electricity, the home was obviously built for Muggle residence. Hermione hoped they weren't "borrowing" some poor bloke's home.

When they arrived downstairs they were greeted with raised eyebrows. Had someone heard their entire conversation? Had they been that loud?

"Took you long enough," Malfoy said. "Everyone's almost here."

"Astoria!" said Hermione. "I forgot to contact everyone! All because of that!" She shook her head at their matter of discussion. So ridiculously girly and yet Hermione had felt extremely at home talking about it with Ginny and Astoria.

"Don't worry, Hermione, I got it," reassured Harry.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said.

"It's alright, now can we please get started?" Harry crossed his arms.

Lucius Malfoy strode in right on cue. "Certainly."

As people moved around to find a comfortable position, Hermione counted eight red heads of hair standing together. Eight! That meant Ron was here. She bit her lip and drummed her fingers against her leg. Pansy, Blaise, Harry, Ginny, Astoria, and even Malfoy came to stand with her, though Hermione suspected he was only with her because of Astoria.

"Very well. Welcome spies, Order of the Phoenix members, and everyone else. As you will have heard, Voldemort is back and after a certain Hermione Granger. Most of you will be wondering why I did not inform you sooner. The answer to that question is simple, yet very foolish. Formerly, we were not spies, as we had no one to spy for. We were just Death Eaters who, after seeing all the destruction the war had caused, wanted nothing more to do with Voldemort. Of course, being Death Eaters, telling any of you of his return would have been of no use. We were not trusted in the Wizarding community. But this is not the only reason you were not told. The other reason, I admit, was the foolish one and, might I say, big-headed. We believed we could destroy Voldemort from the inside on our own while he was weak, with no outside help. As is obvious, seven wizards still pretending to be in service would not suffice. But now that Harry Potter, Ginny Potter, and most importantly Hermione Granger know, it is of utmost importance that we all know what has happened. Voldemort himself has suspected there are spies and, unfortunately for him, has killed some faithful servants. This benefits us, to an extent, but it is also dangerous. We are being very careful so he does not suspect us, but on his next guess, he may get lucky and possibly kill someone in this very room. Rest assured that we, former followers of Voldemort, have taken an oath, magically binding, to not reveal any secrets to Voldemort. Is the oath not followed, the consequences are painful and deadly. If, however, my words do not fully convince you, might I ask Hermione Granger to speak?"

Hermione stiffened. Clearing her throat, she began. "Earlier today, as I was walking home from the Ministry, someone pulled me into an alleyway. He- he had a Dark Mark on his arm. That was all I could notice before I was unconscious. He took me somewhere, Malfoy Manor was it?" She looked over at Mr Malfoy, who nodded. "I pretended to be asleep to be able to overhear the two Death Eaters that were with me-"

"You were not unconscious?" interrupted Mr Malfoy. Hermione shook her head. "Then I believe apologies are in order for your less than kind 'awakening.' It was necessary, for appearances."

"I understand, of course," said Hermione. "Anyway, Mr Malfoy came, said Voldemort wanted me for something. He took me to a room, where Marianna was waiting. She helped me into a tunnel and-" she acknowledged his presence for the first time with a nod. "Malfoy helped me out of the Manor. Without the spies here, I'd be dead."

Order members and former Hogwarts students from Hermione and Ginny's years glanced at each other uneasily. They didn't seem to be keen on accepting the fact that Voldemort was back, but they were taking it much better than Hermione had hoped. Finally, someone spoke.

"I believe them," said Luna. Her voice was still soft and kind, but it had lost that quality that had made no one pay mind to her. She looked not a day older than when she graduated, small and seventeen. "Hermione wouldn't make this up."

"Luna's right!" agreed Charlie, Ginny and Ron's brother. "Hi, Hermione."

"Hey, Charlie," grinned Hermione. "Back already?"

"For a bit. Y'know, vacation."

Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. "So, Mr Malfoy, are you suggesting we work together?"

"That is exactly what I am suggesting," Mr Malfoy confirmed. "Though I do not doubt your ability to discover this on your own, Voldemort does indeed have another Horcrux. This Horcrux is a living breathing person, just as Mr Potter was one. In fact, she is standing in this very room." He seemed reluctant to go on, but he was saved having to speak.

"Me," said the witch named Alicia. "I'm his last Horcrux."

Fast as lightning, Andrea was in front of her, hand twitching to her wand. "Don't anyone get any ideas. No one is killing my sister, I promise you that. Over my dead body first."

"Andiey, please!" said a flustered Alicia. "They won't!"

"Andrea?" said Hermione.

"Andiey," Andrea/Andiey corrected automatically.

"We won't hurt your sister, I promise."

Andiey nodded stiffly. "I believe you. But- what about them?"

"None of us will." Harry was calm and reassuring. "We'll find another way, I promise."

This time Andiey's nod was softer and she relaxed, aware that she was causing a scene.

"We will do nothing to harm Alicia," Mr Malfoy said firmly. "Anyone who wishes to do so, there is the door." No one moved. "Good."

Now, onto the matter of protection. We all know that once Voldemort decides he wants something, he'll stop at nothing to obtain it. So therefore we must protect Ms Granger with our very lives. We must see to it that she is not harmed. That is why I have decided that we should assign her a protector. Is there any opposition to this?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "I don't want any-"

Pansy clapped her hand over Hermione's mouth. "Not a single one, Lucius."

"Perfect," he said, while Hermione struggled to get free of Pansy, who smirked and released her. Hermione glowered at her. "If there is someone who disagrees and believes they know of someone better please tell me. But for now, I have decided that my son Draco is best suited for this responsibility."

The response to this was immediate and violent. Ron, who had been glaring at Mr Malfoy the entire time, began to shout. "So, that's your plan, isn't it? Get Hermione to trust you, pretend you're protecting her, then turn around and turn her into Voldemort so he can kill her! I have to say Malfoy, what a complicated and clever little trick you've come up with. But don't for a second believe I'll let you betray us, because you'll never have the chance to. Thanks for the offer, but I think all of us, especially Hermione, are better off not listening to your load of rubbish!"

"Excuse me, Ronald, but since when do you decide who I do and don't trust?" Hermione asked icily. She was already angry at him and this was the perfect opportunity to let it out. It was immature and childish, but she had to yell at him. "I trust Mr Malfoy. After all, if it wasn't for him, I'd be dead right now!"

"Stop saying that! You will be soon enough if you listen to them!"

"So, this is all a big plot to kill me, is it?" Hermione knew angry sarcasm didn't suit her, but she went on. "Thank you then, Ron! You've saved my life! But then- hold on. A quick question. If I was already this far," she put two of her fingers close together. "from being killed already, why would they save my life?! To gain my trust and then kill me? What the hell have they to gain? Trust of a person that's dead?!"

"Damn it, Hermione!" Ron said. "Here I am, trying to help you, and you just-"

"HELP ME?" Hermione's voice went up easily two octaves. "How is this helping me? What more proof do you need? They saved my life. If they were supposedly still on the Dark side, they would have let them kill me without blinking an eye. Just because you haven't changed in the past five years, it doesn't mean everyone else has stayed the same, too!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Hermione became hyperaware of their audience and lowered her voice before answering. "It means that you're acting like a child. Grow up, Ronald, and realize everybody else has grown up long ago."

Ron, however, was still oblivious to the scene they were causing. "You think I haven't changed? I've changed plenty, Hermione, all for you!"

"Don't you dare start getting emotional on me, Ronald Weasley. Don't. You. Dare. In case you've forgotten, you ended it. You threw all of it away. It's over, Ron. You did it yourself." For the first time, Hermione realized the boy she'd fallen for and while she grew up to become a woman, he did not become a man. She reveled in saying these words because they were true. It elated her to be free of the child that was Ron. She turned her attention to Mr Malfoy. "I apologize for the scene we've caused, but I'm very tired. If it's alright with you, I'll meet with you tomorrow to discuss. . ." She glanced at Malfoy with hidden distaste. "protection."

"Yes, of course," Mr Malfoy said easily. "And please, refer to me as Lucius from now on."

Hermione nodded and left quickly. She Apparated straight to her flat and breathed in contentedly. Her flat. Hers only. She went to her bedroom and stripped the bed of the sheets. Replacing them, she sank into bed and, fully clothed, fell into a deeper sleep than she had had in ages.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning Hermione awoke feeling refreshed and full of energy. It had been years since she had felt like this, and it had more than a little to do with her argument with Ron last night. Who would have thought that a fight would leave a person feeling this good? Admittedly, she had been close to tears, but reminding him that their relationship was over. . .It was like a wake-up call to the most amazing day of her life.

Climbing out of bed, she stretched before seeing the annoyed-looking owl at her window. Frowning, she went to let it in. She fed the bird and went to open the letter. The handwriting was beautiful, it could have been calligraphy but it looked too effortless and natural.

Hermione, 

If you will allow me to refer to you as such. As you left in such a hurry last night, no doubt the reason being Mr Weasley, we neglected to set up a time to discuss your protection. Any time in the next two days would work well, preferably sooner; we do not want to take unnecessary risks. Please send a time with my owl and we will arrange a meeting. 

Lucius M.

Hermione sighed. After her row with Ron, she didn't have time to think of anything else, much less her "protector." As if anyone could care for her better than she could herself. It wasn't like she was an invalid. And of all her rotten luck, it had to be Malfoy! But she couldn't argue with the logic. Closest in age, closest to Voldemort, yet much more dedicated to bringing him down than others. Besides, she thought this with absentminded venom, he was male, much bigger and stronger than any other spy. However, their personal opinions of each other were less than kind. He was arrogant, big-headed, annoying, self-absorbed, rude, a general git and sometimes downright cruel. So having him as a protector would most definitely not end well.

Maybe if she talked to Mr Malfoy/Lucius, she could get him to change his mind. It was with new hope that she scribbled out her reply:

Would this evening at six PM be all right with you? I'm hoping to get this all sorted as quickly as possible. 

Hermione G

She bit her lip. Damn! She was going to be at the Ministry all day. If someone found out she was planning to meet Lucius Malfoy, things could go very wrong. She might even lose her job! After a few moments of thinking, she got an idea. P.S. she wrote, as I'm going to be in the Ministry of Magic most of the day, I would suggest using a different name for this letter. This is an extra precaution of course. I will recognize your owl once he finds my office. Feeling pleased with herself, she gave the owl another treat and tied the letter to its leg. It flew away and she watched it before getting ready for work. As usual, everything took about thirty minutes, including the newest addition: light makeup. Feeling good about her appearance, she went to her kitchen and made a quick breakfast. Everything was quick and light in the morning for her. With a wave of her wand, she sent her things to her office and Apparated to the magical restrooms.

They were, as per usual, crowded, bothering Hermione immensely. When she finally arrived at the Ministry, she went straight to her office. Her day was uneventful, her and Blaise's case was a lost cause, there wasn't far they had to dig to be able to find proper evidence for the suspect to be proven guilty. New-looking Dark objects hidden cleverly in the attic of a lone woman's house, and supposedly unrecorded and suspicious purchases with her name on them, held no signs of innocence. It gave Hermione a fierce pleasure to put this woman behind bars, now the worst was proven.

As Hermione busied herself, a soft knock on the door made her look up.

"It's me," called Blaise.

"Come in," Hermione said.

He did as she asked, taking a seat in front of her. He leaned his head into his left hand, which was on the arm of the chair.

"Now you're here, you ought to help me out with this," Hermione said, gesturing at the parchment surrounding her. He made a face.

"No thanks," he refused. "I think I'll survive without work for a bit."

"Suit yourself." Hermione leaned over the table into no particular stack. "But this is fascinating!"

Blaise chuckled. "Oh how it's killing me to say no!"

"Then don't!" She handed him some of the contents of her desk.

"No Hermione, stop tempting me with these oh-so-interesting-looking-parchments!"

She rolled her eyes at him and picked up her quill. As she did so, the same owl from this morning flew at her window. She took the letter from its leg and it flew off. No response needed.

"Personal letters!" Blaise clicked his tongue like a five-year-old about to get someone in trouble. "Not while at work, Ms Granger."

Ignoring him, Hermione opened the letter, looked at the signature- and groaned.

"What happened?" asked Blaise curiously.

"I'll be seeing your best friend tonight at six," Hermione responded, annoyed. She read through the letter quickly.

Granger, it said. I know you wanted to see my father, but you'll have to settle for me. I'm your protector, so you'll be seeing me often. Tonight at Melissa's, 6 PM. I have a reservation. Be on time. 

DM

"Melissa's?" asked Blaise, who had come up behind Hermione and was reading over her shoulder. "Isn't that-"

"A really expensive Muggle restaurant," she finished. "Why can't we just meet up at his flat or something?"

Blaise shrugged. "It's not Draco's style."

"That was rhetorical, Blaise," Hermione muttered. She put everything back in her bag and sent it to her flat. "I'm going home. Everything's done, there's no need for me to stay."

"Don't try to explain," Blaise grinned. "I wanted to head out too. You should get ready for your date." He winked.

Her date? She didn't have a date. She glanced down and saw the note. "Blaise Zabini, how dare you think I'm going on a date with Malfoy!"

"Well, it's just going to be you two," he said. "In a fancy and expensive restaurant. I assume you'll change into something more appropriate for the setting."

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "One more word and you'll end up a pile of dust on the floor."

"Terrifying." Blaise's exaggerated expression made it clear how terrifying he really thought it was.

"'Bye, Blaise," Hermione said.

"Have fun on your date!" Blaise called as she Apparated away.

She arrived home annoyed but not upset. She knew Blaise was only joking and the possibility of her and Malfoy going on a date was less than zero. It was five in the afternoon and Hermione honestly considered staying in the clothes she was wearing. She decided against it, rummaging through her new and, according to Ginny, improved wardrobe. She showered and got dressed in a baby blue flowy dress. It reached just above her knees, with a sweetheart neckline and a thin black belt cinching around her waist. Deeming herself presentable, she checked the clock before leaving. 5:43. It wasn't too early or too late, the drive would take less than five minutes.

Hermione climbed into her car and drove to the restaurant. Before going inside, she looked at it. It was intimidating, exactly the kind of restaurant where a date would take place. She grimaced. He probably did this on purpose, to make her uncomfortable. He had succeeded.

Hermione gave the name Malfoy to the maître d' and was led to a round table on the outskirts of the room. Malfoy was there already. He practically lounged on his chair, his elbow resting on the back of the it, his head leaning on his hand. Hermione hated to admit it, but he looked. . . good. He was dressed in a spotless long-sleeve white dress shirt and black trousers. His hair was perfectly styled, slightly ruffled, but still presentable enough for such a fancy place. She took a seat in front of him and looked around, unsure of what to do with herself.

"Well Granger, what did you have on your mind?" Malfoy asked, then he smirked. "Unless you just wanted to ogle me, in which case I'll sit here as long as you like, I'd suggest you start talking."

"As if," Hermione retorted. "I wouldn't want to ogle you if we were the last two people in the universe. And anyways, it was your father I wanted to speak with, not you."

"You're out of luck, I know what you wanted. As unfortunate as it is for me, you got the prize of me as a protector."

"Prize," Hermione scoffed. "I think punishment is the word you're looking for is punishment."

"No, prize was definitely my word." He gave her the least subtle once-over in the history of humanity. "You don't look too bad. Grown up a bit, haven't we? Maybe it's not as unfortunate for me as I thought. Seeing as Astoria insists on befriending you, mad she is, maybe I can attempt to be civil."

"Look, Malfoy, I have nothing to discuss with you, so you can spare yourself the strain of being decent." Hermione stood up. "I'll find another time to speak to your father."

"Do you think I'm any more happy about this than you are?" he asked. "I want to get out of this as much as you do, offense intended."

"Flattered," Hermione said. "Don't try to discourage me, Malfoy. I'll talk to your father and get. . .someone else."

"Oh no, by all means, Granger, do. Nothing would make me happier than you succeeding."

"Lovely, then I'm finished here." Hermione turned to walk away.

"Granger," Malfoy called. "If you end up not convincing my father, and that's the most likely possibility, I suggest a truce."

"A truce?"

Malfoy nodded. "For our own sanity and our mutual friends'."

"I'll consider it," said Hermione.

"All right, now sit," Malfoy all but ordered.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "No thank you. Obviously we cannot have a decent conversation or last five minutes in each other's presence without wanting to hex each other into oblivion, so for the sake of, as you put it, our own sanity, I'm going home."

"Granger, don't be the first woman to reject me," Malfoy complained. "It doesn't look good."

Hermione scoffed. "All right. One, you're safe; it's only rejection if it's a date, which it certainly is not, especially with a girlfriend involved. Two, I'm not here to make you look good, I'm here to discuss 'protection' and leave. I've talked to you, now I'm leaving."

"I don't think Astoria would mind if I went on a date with someone else," Malfoy cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you implying something?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not." Malfoy's voice had taken on a new tone. He had turned on his "charm" full force. "I was merely noting how my girlfriend, knowing who I am, wouldn't mind a simple date with another woman."

"You're unbelievable!" Hermione spluttered, outraged.

She stormed out of the restaurant to Malfoy's snickers. It wasn't until she was in her car that she realized the Slytherin was only trying to get her to react. Furious now with both herself, for letting him, and with Malfoy, for being the git he couldn't help being, Hermione backed out of the parking lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Very first fic, comments are very much appreciated!(:


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